CLOUDrhythm
Name's Forrest.
Zeta Phi Beta.
Writer.
Feminist.
Bibliophile.
Logophile.
Vinyl collector.
NOH8 Supporter.
Chronic Jet Lag.
Power Ranger Historian.
Reading is breathing.
Bluestocking Damsel.
James Dean cool.
Frank O'Hara aficionado.
Franz Kafka peruser.
Home is A Feeling.
I believe in fierce.
The Difference Between Over Thinking and Second Guessing
“It’s important to write after you feel it hurt and remain.”
There’s nothing more genuine than
giving someone your time;
or the space between waiting
and being absolutely ready.
It’s hard to walk away from
temptation and pessimism
but they both are equally beautiful.
It’s not hard to make up
for every one before you
but when you’re no longer
doing seen as you—
You aren’t the difference
between temptation and pessimism.
it’s weird if you over think it
and that’s why it’s confusing.
The pain of anticipation is
an orgasm many hate to have
or better yet, to recognize.
Because when you feel it in
your chest; and your soul is watching you outside of your body because
the two were never in sync
is like trying to coming out
to a crowd of people who see
you as every pronoun but “you.”
I have to start letting things so.
Especially the things that don’t
belong or were ever meant for you
like a smile, the mistakes, or how your tone reminds them of that time
when they didn’t have control.
The best thing about having
something that isn’t yours
is when it’s time to go you don’t
have a mess to clean up but
your feelings what you’re left with.
And you keep coming back for more.
You deserve the world I live in.
Not the world everyone shares.
You can be the center and the sun
or just have it.
“At fifteen you had the radiance of early morning, at twenty you will begin to have the melancholy brilliance of the moon.”
(Source: themethodtohermadness, via lotusflor)
“That’s when you know you’ve found somebody really special. When you can just shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably share silence.”
(Source: larmoyante, via supamanpunch)
(via vainsmith)
Birthdays and Surprises
I hate surprises.
I never can hold out long enough for there to be a surprise. I’m about to burst into pieces because her birthday is coming up and I have to literally plan the whole thing (and keep it a top secret) until the end of the month. I feel like a secret agent/ power ranger expect I’m lying to keep her from knowing what I’m doing and it doesn’t help that some of my line sisters are in on the whole thing.
The look on her face will be worth it; however, I can barely NOT not say anything when I’m at my apartment. It sucks.
All I know— is that I hope I can hold out until the end of June. Because having gifts and shit sent to all my sister’s house instead of mine is going to be interesting.
Stan Lee shitting on the Hollywood industry.
My got damn hero… Spoken like a true man.
(Source: mcavoyas, via smorgasbordgie)
Sisyphus— The Curse of Repetition
We play tigers crouching down
dancing with our necks
letting our mouths vibrate.
Treading back and forth
swaying with the wrinkles
and the pace of exhaling.
In the garden of good and evil
she is the sin I commit.
And I commit, to ever hell
and heaven we can create.
Me and my Eve eat all the apples.
For now let’s call her “Rum.”
She works just fine mixed
with denial and juice.
Let there be music playing
and an ashtray half full.
I’ll pay for every sin she is
and put the rest on my tab.
She’s sweet going down
and warms the chests.
I feel like Boaz without Ruth.
I could work in her fields
as long as there’s air.
It’s all fine if it’s free.
My brave woman— your words
hit stronger than whiskey.
I’ve been meaning to not stare
as much after I finish.
She has fire burning under her
skin that is beautiful;
and it sets me in flames.
She invented fire, carelessly.
And now you know
how it feels to touch you.
She’s a pillar of salt and lime
and if I look behind she’ll melt.
Orange sky meeting us home
and it’s happy hour with Rum.
These skinny cigarettes
that taste like candy help.
I love you naked and confident.
“Can I give you that?”
Tell me anyway even if I can’t.
She’s not free, quiet, or mad.
It’s a triangle that I can’t avoid.
I watch her put those on
before her jeans and shoes.
Damn, how I love the taste of Rum.
I swear there’s more gold
in her eyes than in Sierra Leona.
That’s why I keep her around.
I’ve never seen anything that pretty.
Begin to Worry When Rum Tastes Like Water
There’s a dream asking to stay
but I’m afraid I’ve seen too much.
Woman, you enchant me.
There’s a way to see into you.
I met her in a room full of hope—
can’t explain how you make me feel;
but these feelings have a chaperone
that’s not responsible.
She has my attention
and absolutely knows it.
She’s got a touch that can make
ripples in the ground.
Maybe there’s nothing I can do.
So I try, and pray, to what’s current
and relevant that I don’t bore her.
I look out in the room
and feel so dull against her,
and the brightness she is.
You make me feel
like a flower being firstly discovered.
Your spirit is the color
that paints the sky, beautifully.
Sometimes I need to be alone
to understand that I’m this lucky.
I love your taste in music.
I love your taste in music.
If I could write you a song
it couldn’t impress you like
the smile you have.
The Morning Benders - Excuses (Yours Truly Session)
This song is just too much for me to handle. So beautiful.
And if you knew..
